


About Things Today and Fallen Leaves

by SquishySterek (Herm_own_ninny)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Music, Nightmares, OCD, Sensory Overload, Sleepy Cuddles, Touch-centric, touch-sensitive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-29 18:43:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17208869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Herm_own_ninny/pseuds/SquishySterek
Summary: Going to see the river manGoing to tell him all I canAbout the planFor lilac time.If he tells me all he knowsAbout the way his river flowsAnd all night showsIn summertime.





	About Things Today and Fallen Leaves

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoy the ranting and raving and slightly cognitive thoughts of a sleep deprived dumbass at 2 am trying to get some form of cohesive thought across.  
> And enjoy some slight projection.

“What’s wrong?”  
Stiles could feel the rumble of Peter's voice where his head was resting against his chest. He closed his eyes, focusing on his breathing and keeping his heart rate as steady as possible. The tap of his thumb against his index finger was distracting enough to help, for the most part, but apparently not enough.  
The steady, alternating pattern of a duplet and a triplet, mouthing silent “One, two. One, two, three.” counts for each set, eyes trained on the spot where his thumb met the side of his finger.  
“Stiles? You there?”  
“I'm fine,” Stiles mumbled, closing his eyes and balling his hand into a fist, audiating the pattern and trying to focus his attention to it. Peter's hand moved to rest on his shoulder and started rubbing, no pattern to it, throwing Stiles off.  
“Don't do that.”  
“Do what?”  
“My shoulder. Don't do that.”  
“Don't touch you?” Peter pulled his hands away from Stiles, who just groaned quietly in frustration.  
“No, no. Don't _not_ touch. That's not-”  
“What's wrong?”  
Stiles sighed heavily and diverted his gaze to a painting on the far wall as he sat up in the bed. His shoulders sagged and he dropped his eyes to his hands, tapping the rhythm once more. Peter sat up as well, cautiously setting a hand on Stiles’ knee and rubbing circles there.  
“Stop that.”  
“Stop what? I'm just touching-”  
“You're throwing me off.”  
“By… showing affection?”  
Peter was absentmindedly rubbing now and Stiles grabbed his wrist, trying to take a steadying breath.  
“Stop that. It's the wrong… rhythm. Don't do it.”  
“The wrong rhythm?”  
Stiles scowled and shook his head, letting go of Peter's wrist and turning away. “Rhythm. It's the wrong pattern. It helps.”  
“Stiles, are you okay? What's wrong?” Peter settled a hand on Stiles' back, keeping from any extra movement this time.  
“Nightmares. Getting bad. Rhythm keeps me sane.”  
“OCD,” Peter mumbled, leaning forward to press a kiss to Stiles’ cheek. “You're scared of the dreams? Or of hurting me?”  
“Worried. Either one.”  
“Do you want some music?” Peter murmured, sliding his hand to wrap around Stiles’ waist and pull him into his lap.  
“River Man. Five Leaves Left, Nick Drake. Please, Peter,” Stiles mumbled, laying his head against Peter's chest and closing his eyes.  
“Okay Google. Play River Man by Nick Drake.”  
Stiles altered his pattern on Peter's chest to line up with the beat of the piece, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.  
“What's wrong with your nightmares?”  
Stiles waited to answer, tapping the rhythm against Peter's chest, against the tattoo of Stiles’ handwriting saying 'Aut Visum Aut Non’. He felt Peter shift, he knew his mouth was open to reiterate the question. “Violent.”  
“Violent how?”  
“Because you hurt me,” Stiles whispered, balling his hand into a tight fist this time, digging his blunt nails deep into his palm. “I hurt you back, too.”  
“How do I hurt you?”  
“You don't love me like you do anymore.”  
“That would hurt you?”  
“Of course. I'm in love with you.”  
“Is that all I do in your dreams?”  
“You leave quite often. Those are scariest. You hit, occasionally. Not much. Others, you just leave. Never let me see…” Stiles choked quietly on a sob, closing his eyes and willing back tears. “Away. Gone away. Never let me see your smile. Or your laugh, your eyes. I love you… so much. It scares me, how much.”  
“Does it scare you even when you wake up and I'm still here?”  
“Dreaming will feel real. Right in that moment, you're gone,” Stiles whispered, reaching for Peter's hand and interlocking their fingers. “I love you so much. I love you, more than anything.”  
“And that's what's wrong? You're afraid of waking up to your nightmares?”  
Stiles stayed quiet again this time, glancing up at the Bluetooth speaker when the song began to loop. “Scared I'll wake up and try to hurt you in some way. Hold you hostage, hit back, leave first.”  
“I trust you.”  
“What?”  
“I trust you, Stiles, to not hurt me. I know how much you love me and want to protect me. I trust you.”  
Stiles leaned forward and kissed Peter tenderly, cupping his jaw and running his thumb across his cheek. “Why?”  
“Because we love each other. You take care of me, and I take care of you.”  
Stiles nodded and let Peter lay them back down in their original position. They laid in silence for another repeat of the song before Peter broke the comfortable tension.  
“You haven't noticed.”  
“What?”  
“My hand.”  
Stiles took mental stock of everything touching his body, zeroing in on the point of contact Peter had to be talking about.  
“It feels good.”  
“It doesn't match the rhythm.”  
“You don't have to. You trust me.”  
Peter chuckled quietly and kissed Stiles' forehead, rubbing a few more circles against his shoulder before relaxing.  
“I love you and sweet dreams.”  
“Sweet dreams, baby. I love you, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> [I Tumbl](https://www.squishysterek.tumblr.com/)


End file.
